Wow, Beverly, the cloistered life? Really? Whyhow? This I would love to hear. You know, so I'd understand "Brede" better.

Kate, that would be Peacock Summer.

I get it confused with Harnessing Peacocks, which I didn't like as well.

Katerina, I am very introverted, and ADD. When I was contemplating cloistered life, I was still undiagnosed, and having dreadful problems understanding why I found it so difficult to focus on a task or a thought. The cloister would have removed a lot of static input, imposed a focus I couldn't seem to manage on my own, and would have been a sort of relief. Not, sadly perhaps, a religious motivation.

Ah, it sounds to me as if you wanted to have some time in the quiet white room to process all the jangling input the world provides. This I get. Being the Bride of Jesus, NSM.

One of the things I thought Ron Hansen did very well in Mariette in Ecstasy is present the zen-like grace of the daily hours of cloistered life. It's the best part of the book, IMO. Agnes of God and a few tv movies about hysterical young nuns manifesting stigmata had come out by the time I read his book so that part of it was not so interesting nor provocative.

Drat, I wrote a long thing about Annie Dillard and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek but I took so long, my log in name was spat out. Anyway, her parents live about 1/2 mile away from my parents now-former house, where I grew up. Annie grew up in Pittsburgh, but her little sister, Molly is my age and grew up in my home town. (who is it also from PA? let's email!) Their father, Frank Doak, about whom much of An American Childhood is written, taught school at the private school in Rolling Rock, and performed in all the local theater productions of The Valley Players. He's also in Day of the Dead, George Romero's film, playing a radio announcer. He was our only local movie star as a result.

I lurved Pilgrim at Tinker Creek but my book group, nsm. If you like PaTC too, then also try Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver. Also maybe Enslaved by Ducks.

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek has been in my To Be Read pile for a while now. Maybe a year or so. Last year, when my back was all injured, one of the women in my writing class would call me and read to me from it. Very sweet.

I adored Mariette in Ecstasy. And I live in PA! Bucks County, though, not out near Pittsburgh.

Thought of another book I loved that most people I know personally haven't read: John Dollar by Marianne... Ack! Blanking on her last name. But she's Salmon Rushdie's ex-wife, I think. Wiggins, maybe?

Gah. I hate typos.

You know how certain scenes from books or movies come back to you? I still have flashbacks of the scene from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek where the just-hatched moth who didn't have enough room inside the classroom jelly-jar to spread his wings so they could dry properly is slowly walking down the road behind the school with his crippled wings, frozen so that he will never to able to open them, after the teacher lets him out of the jar after school. shudder. Poor thing.

Bucks County! I know Bucks County, kind of. Near a river, used to be a kind of groovy-cool-hippy-arty-avante garde town. Is it still?

Oh, god. Now I don't want to read it. I can't handle helpless things/people being hurt.

Oh dear. Java is me wrt the moth.